


Sudden movements

by Ischa



Series: Definition of destiny-Series [1]
Category: Heroes - Fandom, Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-slash, vampire-hunting adventure with blood drinking.<br/><i>Sylar is a nice guy if you like the serial killer, ready to rip your heart out, junkie type. Damon likes that type. Hell, he is the type. So, there is the flow in his plan.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sudden movements

**Title:** Sudden movements  
 **Pairing:** Sylar/Peter/Damon (somehow)  
 **Rating:** PG - 13  
 **Summary:** Pre-slash, vampire-hunting adventure with blood drinking.  
 _Sylar is a nice guy if you like the serial killer, ready to rip your heart out, junkie type. Damon likes that type. Hell, he is the type. So, there is the flow in his plan._  
 **Warning(s):** vampires, violence, blood drinking, spoilers up to Brave new world, Vampire Diaries crossover  
 **Author’s Notes:**  Someone suggested it over at Sylar/Peter promptfest and I just ran with it. Title: Billy Talent  
 **Word Count:** 8.166  
 **Beta:** ariana_paris  
 **Disclaimer:** Don’t know, don’t own, not real

\--+--  
~One~

~+~  
Brooding, brooding and more brooding. Also some pining for variety. He needs to get as far away from Stefan as fucking possible. And as soon as possible as well. Also: Mystic grill?! What the hell?  
He smiles as he watches the girl jump from the Ferris wheel. He loves TV. They call them specials now, they used to call them witches back in the old days. It's all the same, really. And he needs some serious fun, seriously fast.  
He's thinking about leaving a message on Stefan's freezer door, but what the hell? He didn't say he would come and he doesn't leave messages when he leaves. Stefan can brood some more and maybe freak out a bit about not knowing what he's up to. He throws some clothes into his bag and steals Stefan's photograph of Katherine just for the hell of it. And because he has a reputation to live up to (evil and heartless – even if he thinks it's a bit harsh).

~+~  
They aren't enemies, but he wouldn't say they are BFF's either. They are on shaky ground at the best of times and at others...well. He shrugs. It's complicated not only because he killed Peter's brother and tried (and succeeded in) killing Peter and lots of people he cares about...okay, he needs to stop thinking about it.  
When he's honest he doesn't think he can be what Peter wants him to be: the good guy. That just isn't him. He can control his urges to kill and steal abilities that please him, but that's all. The fun part of hunting evil guys down is the hunt. He doesn't talk with Peter about it, because, well, Peter is the good guy. The American hero. Sylar is not the hero, he isn't even the anti-hero, he is just himself. Sylar. He will never again be someone else. As a matter of fact (he doesn't tell or discuss this with Peter either) he likes who he is now.

~+~  
As the good guy, he lets Sylar stay at his apartment. It's not like he doesn't have the space and someone needs to keep an eye on him. Peter doesn't think Sylar will run away and start killing people just for the fun of it again, but Bennet and Ma aren't that sure and the only reason Sylar is free to come and go is a) Matt saw in his head and couldn't find anything and b) Sylar is the most powerful special they know about. He might be the most powerful of all for all they know. So it wouldn't make much sense to try and lock him up – again. It's not like it did them any good when they tried it the last few times. (There is also c. Peter believes in him).  
And he doesn't bother Peter. Mostly he isn't even there when Peter goes to work or comes back home. He doesn't know what Sylar is doing, but he knows he isn't killing people – or he's hiding the bodies very well.

  
~Two~  
There is something strange about this guy. Sylar can feel it in his guts and it's not only the fact that he can't read that guy's mind. Also, Sylar is positively sure that guy is stalking Peter. Not that he is telling Peter that. Not yet.  
He saw him at the supermarket yesterday when they went shopping and Peter dragged him with, and because he didn’t have anything better to do that day (and they were out of French beans and he really likes them) he said yes. He also saw him at the hospital when he picked Peter up from a late shift a few days ago, and now he's thinking about it, he saw him in the park that one Sunday three weeks ago. And that's just when he was with Peter. He doesn't know about the times Peter was alone somewhere. Saving people, being on a shift, visiting his mother. Peter doesn't tell him when he's going over to her because Sylar still hates her with a burning passion. That woman made him a tool. A fool, and he hates that he wanted to be what she wanted him to be.  
He's just watching Peter, like he's trying to figure him out and Sylar doesn't like the look on that guy's face. It's predatory. He sends a 'hurry the fuck up' to Peter's mind and Peter looks up from the conversation he is having with Hesam and in his direction. It's cold for April outside, so he isn't getting out of the car. Peter nods, saying a few more words to Hesam and then coming his way.

“Took you long enough,” he says as Peter gets in.

“I have a life, and you didn't need to pick me up,” Peter answers, buckling up.

“Bennet called,” Sylar answers. He hates that too. Bennet calling Peter whenever a special is stepping out of line. But he loves to hunt them down.

“What is it this time?”

“Dead bodies showing up... here,” he says, reaching over, grabbing a folder and passing it to Peter.

“He came by?”

“You can't imagine the fun we had...” Sylar answers, starting the car. Sarcasm in every syllable. Peter, of course, ignores it.

“Says here that most of the victims had a broken neck and were homeless guys. Does sound like a serial killer to me. Is this really our business?” he asks, putting the folder down and fumbling with the radio.

“Bennet thinks so and you know him. He has experience,” Sylar answers.

Peter nods. “We just should check it out then...”

“Did you read the Post-It?” he wants to know, he's curious, because Peter didn't say a word about it.

“Post-It?”

“At the very back of the folder, maybe it fell out...”

Peter turns and looks around in the car. “Oh! Yeah, there it is,” he says, grabbing Sylar's wrist and exchanging his super speed against telekinesis. It's so common by now, Peter doing this, that Sylar doesn't even raise an eyebrow. The Post-It flows into his hand a moment later. “Hmm... no blood in the bodies?”

“That’s what the Post-It says. Thought he’d lost it when I first read it,” Sylar admits. Peter gives him a look.

“Are you still wondering about the things people can do? You are a shapeshifter...it's like an episode of Supernatural,” Peter answers.

“Does this make me Dean or Sam?” Sylar asks.

“Sam,” Peter says without thinking about it. Sylar doesn't ask why.

~+~  
Damon is pretty sure this Peter guy is one of the 'specials'. He also seems the good boy-scout, brooding hero type. It should be fun to mess with him a bit before he kills him and drinks all his blood.  
He really needs some fun right now. Stefan has tried to call him 30 times and left roughly a million messages. He listened to the first 20. Hearing his brother getting more and more frustrated was fun, is fun, will always be fun. No question there. It's also bothersome. So he threw his phone out of the car window after day three of his great escape. It's lying in a cornfield maybe in Iowa.  
Doesn't matter. He has a new shiny iPhone and he paid for it. With money...not his own, but that is not the point here. The point is Stefan can't reach him and is surely going stir crazy right now. The thought makes Damon smile.  
It never fails to amuse him. It's the kind of pleasure drinking blood brings him. If he needed to choose he would choose blood just for the survival part. After all he couldn't annoy the hell out of Stefan if he weren't alive, undead...whatever.  
And what kind of life would it be if he couldn't annoy the hell out of Stefan?

~+~  
He might be imagining things, but he doesn't think so. He thinks that this guy in the vegetable section is following him. He wanders over to grab some butter and milk and the guy is there, standing a few feet away and staring down at a yoghurt.  
Peter thinks he saw him before. Last week when he was shopping with Sylar, maybe.

“Hey...” he says, putting pudding in his cart. The guy turns around. A small smile playing around is lips.

“Yeah?”  
Peter licks is lip nervously. Fuck, what the hell is he going to say? Are you stalking me? He is pretty fucking sure that this guy is following him, though.

“You're standing in the way?” he says instead and makes it a question to not sound rude.

“Oh, yeah... can't decide,” the guy answers.

“The lemon cheesecake tastes pretty good...” Peter offers.

“Hmm... maybe I'll take it then,” the guy says with a smile.

Maybe he's flirting, Peter thinks, smiling back. Men don't hit on him that often, it happens, but mostly it doesn't. So he isn't sure. Sylar would've known, because he would just look into this guy's head. He leans over, grabs his yoghurt and steers his cart to the till.  
He doesn't tell Sylar about it, because Sylar is paranoid since the whole Claire disaster and he is right to be. It's not the future he has seen, but maybe it's just too early and it's not the future he has seen _yet_.

  
~Three~  
Damon can't just stalk someone and not talk to that someone before he kills said someone. Hence the whole thing about yoghurt. It tastes good, no question there. But he doesn't need to eat it, still.  
The next time he talks to Peter about apples and then about ice-cream and then they meet on a street by chance (or that's what Peter thinks) and grab some coffee.  
Talk a bit. It's surprisingly hard to look into Peter's head, it's like he is immune to this kind of treatment. Like he is constantly wearing a necklace with verbena or something. Or constantly on guard. Damon has no doubt that Peter is a special. He just doesn't know what Peter's power is yet.

“So... you can read minds, hmmm?” Peter asks out of the blue. He's playing with his coffee cup. His fingers skimming the rim.

Damon is taken by surprise by this change of topic. “Yeah,” he says. It doesn't matter if Peter knows that.

“So, you're one of the specials...” it's not a question.

“I would say I'm special, yeah.”

Peter smiles. “Any questions or are you all set in your life?”

“You think I sought you out because you are like me?”

“Yes, wasn't that the reason?” Peter wants to know.

“The reason was that you are special, yeah,” Damon admits, but Peter couldn't be farther away from the truth. Peter has never met anything like Damon. Nothing that inhuman and dangerous. “What can you do?” he asks.

“Can't you tell by looking into my head?” It's not really a challenge, nor a warning, but the crocked smile says it's _something_.

“It's difficult to read your mind,” Damon says.

“Because I know too many people that can,” Peter answers.

“So, what can you do?”

“Copy other people's abilities when I touch them,” he answers shrugging. That is kinda cool, Damon thinks. “Sounds cooler than it is,” Peter assures him as if reading his mind.  
Damon laughs. He can't help it.

~+~  
“Because he is dangerous!” Sylar says. Peter gives him a look. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. Damn Peter and all his trust.

“You don't know that.”

“Trust me, I know. He is dangerous and he stalked you to find out what he could about you and now that he needs more he is talking to you, trying to make you like him, trying to make you trust him.” Before he tries to kill you, is unspoken, but Sylar thinks Peter gets it. Peter is not a complete idiot.

“You don't know that,” Peter repeats, pouring coffee into mugs. Sylar snags one away without touching it and adds sugar without touching the bowl or a spoon either.

“I know that because that's what I would do. Hell, it's what I did. To Mohinder's father and lots of other people. He is dangerous.” He is sure of that. He just has a bad feeling about this Damon guy.

“I can watch out for myself. I survived worse.” Peter replies.

“Me.” Sylar says. Peter nods. He shakes his head, he doesn't know if Damon isn't worse, if he isn't like Sylar was before he was trapped in his own mind for years. Before he was Nathan, before Peter. He takes a sip of his coffee, he doesn't think he can make Peter understand, so he will just look out for that idiot boy and try to keep him alive (it's still a strange feeling to want to keep someone alive, rather than kill or just let someone live).

“Anything on the Bennet case?” Peter asks.

Sylar shakes his head. It frustrates him that he can't seem to find anything useful on that guy. “If I didn't know better, I would say it's a fucking vampire,” he answers.

Peter laughs. “Here? In this age and time?”

“I can kill people with my brain, move things with my mind and am a shapeshifter. They would've called me a wizard or werewolf or something stupid like that two hundred years ago... and tried to burn me alive on a pile of dry wood.” He gives back, taking another sip of coffee.

“True enough,” Peter admits. “Still... a vampire? Someone who needs blood to survive?”

“Or someone who gets his kicks from bleeding someone dry,” Sylar answers.

“Just for the fun of it?”

“Stranger things have happened...” he says with a grin.

“Can't understand why someone would want to do that...” Peter muses. Yeah, Sylar thinks and that's the problem, that's why they need Sylar, because none of them is this evil, this vicious to the bone. Most people can't even imagine the things he's done and that he enjoyed it while he was doing them.

~+~  
Damon really doesn't seem very dangerous, Peter thinks. A kid, a boy, not older than 24 maybe. And he enjoys Damon's company. Likes to talk with him when they run into each other, likes to go for a coffee.

“Are you dating this guy?” Sylar asks one evening. They are eating Chinese out of the carton and looking at the files Bennet sent them. Two dead bodies more, makes a total of eleven. All homeless and all with no blood in their veins.

“I'm not,” he answers. Sylar looks sceptical. “I'm not. We go only out for talks and coffee...”

“Are you listening to yourself?”

“Are you jealous?” Peter asks with a grin. He loves to rile Sylar up a bit.

“I'm not. I told you he is dangerous,” Sylar answers, taking a bite of his...something without mushrooms.

“He is a boy. New in town who was living with his brother until now and feels lonely.”

“Lonely my ass...” Sylar mutters. Peter laughs.

  
~Four~  
Sylar is dangerous. Damon can smell the blood on his hands...or something. Maybe it's just true that it takes one to know one. Sylar is dangerous and a killer. Vicious and without regret when he's killing. Just like Damon. He thinks if things were different they could've been great friends.  
They make polite conversation while Peter is getting their drinks, but Damon knows that this guy wants to rip his guts out and maybe hang them above his bed as a bizarre decoration. It amuses him. He likes a challenge. It also amuses him that Sylar tries to get into his head.

“I'm a mindreader myself...” he says, his lips twitching into a smile.

“Explains a thing or two.”

“Not everything?”

“No,” Sylar answers.

“What doesn't it explain?”

“Why you smell like blood,” he answers.

“Humans can't smell blood,” Damon gives back. He is pretty fucking sure of that fact.

“I'm not an ordinary human,” Sylar answers and before Damon can say something to that Peter reappears with their drinks.

~+~  
“I don't like him,” Sylar says, leaning against the door frame.

“Because I like him?” Peter wants to know. He's flopping down on the couch, his jacket thrown over a chair. Sylar makes tea in the kitchen while he is watching Peter.

“No, because he smells wrong,” he answers.

“Smells wrong? Did you steal Emilie's power?” he asks. Sylar shrugs. He should've known, Peter thinks. Sylar can't help it. He collects things. He collects powers. He is glad that Emilie isn't dead because of all this. He doesn't think that bringing people here to explain things to them is a bad idea, but he still worries sometimes. Sylar is unstable at best. He is a junkie and he is craving the next fix. As long as he doesn't use any violence to get it everything should be alright, Peter thinks. Still, he doesn't bring that many people here. He meets with them in coffee shops instead. Usually. There are exceptions. Emilie was one and Emma is visiting frequently as well.

“I don't trust him and you shouldn't either.” The tea flows in and settles on the small table. Spoons, teacups, and sugar follow. Peter sighs. He can't deny the fact that Sylar knows the bad guys, can smell them. Something about them...it takes one to know one, he guesses.

“I'm an adult,” he says.

“Right,” Sylar answers, sitting down. From his voice Peter can say that he doesn't think so. It should irritate Peter more he thinks.

~+~  
After seeing Damon and talking to him he is fucking sure that the guy is up to no good. Why can't Peter see that? Shouldn't he be able to sense something from Damon? When he thinks about it, he isn't sure. Damon is a nice guy...on the outside and maybe parts of him on the inside as well, but there is something dark inside him. Something that Sylar can't quite name, but knows is there. Like his own hunger that he suppresses right now.  
He gets up from the couch and paces the small living room, silently. Sleep is out of question for now. He doesn't even want to think about all this. He grabs some coffee and the files Bennet gave them and sits down to do some work.

  
~Five~  
Sylar honestly can't stand Damon. He can admit to himself it's partly because Peter is spending so much time with him. He doesn't neglect Sylar, they are still...them, he guesses. Room-mates that don't care too much to eat dinner together everyday. It's not living alone, but it's not like living together either. It's just...something.  
He bangs his head against the nearest wall and summons the bottle of Jack from the kitchen. He feels tired, he was up the whole night again and maybe he should listen to Peter for once and eat breakfast, but he doesn't feel hungry and he doesn't think he can die from starvation. He doesn't think he can die at all. Maybe if they'll find that spot and then burn is body. He takes a swing from the bottle and closes his eyes.

~+~  
The flaw in the killing and drinking all Peter's blood plan is Sylar. And maybe that he kinda likes this guy and Sylar. Sylar is a nice guy if you like the serial killer, ready to rip your heart out, junkie type. Damon likes that type. Hell, he is the type. So, there is the flow in his plan. He bangs his head against the wall behind him and closes his eyes. The pain is sharp but dulls quickly. His body healing itself already. Maybe, he thinks he could just turn Peter. Chances are that he will not be as emo as Stefan about the whole thing, but also that he will not drink any human blood. He groans and doesn't think he could deal with all the guilt shit again.  
And why the hell is he even entertaining the thought at all? Just for the kicks? Maybe. He gets up and grabs the near empty bottle of whisky. He needs to be so much more drunk than this for all this shit in his head.  
The truth is that Peter reminds him of Elena. They're both just fucking bleeding hearts. It's disturbing.  
He takes another swing and closes his eyes.

~+~  
“I hate it to be the one to break it to you...” Sylar says, Peter gives him a look and hopes Sylar knows that he is not buying Sylar's shit. Sylar shrugs as if he doesn't care. He probably doesn't, the bastard. “But you and Damon are dating,” he finishes.

“That's fucking ridiculous. We are doing the same things and we are not dating!” he answers.

“Our relationship is far too complicated and complex to use a word like 'dating',” Sylar says, he even fucking makes quotes with his fingers.

“What?” He is not above admitting that he has no clue what Sylar is talking about.

“I killed you, you killed me and then we spent years in my head only with each other for company. We're beyond dating.”

“We are not a couple!”

“No, we are not. But if he were a girl you would be sleeping with him by now,” Sylar answers. He's changed the topic back to Damon again. Peter doesn't know if he is irritated or glad by it.

“Well, but he isn't a girl. And I don't like men. I never even considered it.” It's the truth and he maybe wouldn't even be thinking about it right now if not for Sylar.

“It's your Catholic-Italian soul...” Sylar says, waving his hand in an irritated gesture.

“We are not dating,” he says firmly.

“Does he know that?” Sylar asks.  
Fuck, Peter thinks, but he keeps silent.

  
~Six~  
Nervousness is coming from Peter in waves and Damon smiles. He doesn't think it's his usual smile; it somehow always morphs into something else around Peter. He plays with the rim of his paper cup and waits.

“So...” Peter says and stops. Damon leans back in the chair. Amused smile in place.

“Yeah?”

“Okay, this is really awkward, but do you think we're dating?” he asks and waits. Damon is glad he actually doesn't have to breathe as he swallows his coffee.

“You don't?” he asks. He didn't think about this like that, but it is amusing to watch Peter squirm and search for words.

“I, no, I didn't.”

“So, you only want to be friends?” he says low and leans back in, so his elbows are on the table, his face closer to Peter's. He can hear Peter swallow. Watches his Adam's apple, the tightening of his yaw, the vein on his neck. He looks away from that. He hasn’t drunk in a while, because he couldn't be bothered to find another homeless guy and it's too dangerous to hunt something else in this city. He takes another sip of coffee instead.

“Yeah, I want us to be friends.”

“Is it because of Sylar?” Damon asks, he knows it's not, but he seriously loves to watch Peter squirm.

“What?”

“He has a thing for you?” He makes it a question, all innocent wide eyes.

“He has not...” Peter says, but he doesn't look so sure. Damon can see his mind working.

“He has, I can tell,” he answers, taking another sip of his coffee. It was a great idea to leave Mystic Falls.

~+~  
“Do you have a thing for me?” Peter asks over Italian and the newest autopsy photos.

“What?”

“Answer the question,” Peter says, sighing.

“If I have a thing for you?” Sylar wants to know.

Peter nods. Yes, that's...just stupid, he thinks. But the truth is that now that Damon hinted (okay, he didn't use any hints) at it he can't let it go. “Yes, Damon said...” he starts and Sylar gets up from the couch and paces the room.

“Damon again. I told you he is dangerous...and he smells like blood,” Sylar interrupts him.

“Like blood?” Peter asks distracted.

“Yes, like blood. I mean, he could be a butcher...I don't know the difference between human blood and animal blood, yet, but I honestly think there is something wrong with him,” Sylar says.

“Hmmm....”

“Did you talk about the dating thing with him?” he wants to know.

“Yes, I did and he said you have a thing for me, do you have a thing for me?”

“Everyone has a thing for you, you are a hero,” Sylar answers. He turns around to say something else and freezes on the spot for a brief moment and then he's at Peter's side with a sheet of paper.  
“Look at this!” he says and Peter does. A few seconds the conversation is forgotten. They might have a hint.

~+~  
There are things in the dark he knows are dangerous, but he doesn't fear any of them. Not for himself, he can't die after all and everyone who is dumb enough to try and attack him...well. He is no prey. He doesn't even look like prey. And still someone or something is following him. He keeps to the shadows and waits.  
When the attack comes he is surprised by the strength and speed of it. Someone grips his neck and jerks him back, he hears something break and by the pain it's something that belongs to his body and then there is something else. A sharp pain in his neck. He can hear someone swallow, can smell his own blood, can feel it tickling down his neck. His vision blurs and then everything goes dark.  
It's day when he opens his eyes again.  
Well, he thinks, that was a new and unpleasant way to die, as he pushes his body up from the pavement. The light hurts his eyes and everything, every bone and muscle in his body hurts like hell. A vampire then. Fucking surreal. He needs to go back to their apartment and tell Peter.

  
~Seven~  
“Are you crazy?!” Peter demands.

“I can't die!” Sylar gives back, taking off his shoes and jacket (he really needs a shower badly). He can't understand why Peter is so angry at him for his little stunt. He was doing research, they need to stop whoever or whatever is killing these people. Don't they?

“That's not the point! And you can fucking die! And you know it very well.” He sighs and leans against the wall.

Sylar watches as Peter's eyes close for a brief second. He stomps on the tender feeling in his chest and says: “I think it is a vampire.”

“Great, just fucking great. A special with a need for blood,” Peter says.

“Not the first one we encountered,” Sylar answers, taking off his shirt.

“What are you doing?” Peter asks.

“Taking off my clothes? I'm going to shower. Dying in a dark, filthy back-alley is really...filthy.” What the hell is Peter's problem? It's not like this is the first time he's seen him without a shirt. For god's sake.

“Right...so this attacker of yours?”

“I didn't see him, but I'm sure I can smell him...I'm sure I can smell my blood on him. Or could. Fuck, I just died. It's really not my fault, it's always a bit confusing to wake up after you've died...” he runs his fingers through his hair and finds a small branch. He so needs a shower. “I'm going to shower.”

“I'll make dinner...” Peter says.  
Sylar nods.

~+~  
So, here is the thing: When Damon kills someone that someone usually stays dead. So to see Peter with Sylar, whom he killed three days ago, it was a wonderful Saturday night and the moon was shining, is a bit of a disappointment. Not shock. Damon doesn't do shock.  
He can still taste Sylar's blood on his tongue when he concentrates on it. Feel it rush trough his own veins as Sylar's body went limp and then dead. That was a good night...  
Obviously this is a bigger problem than he thought. Sylar is not a normal human being. Damon isn't sure what he is, but special ranges really high on his list, also immortal. He is not one to give up though. He'll just try again. He needs to kill Sylar, no question here. Sylar is in his way and could ruin everything.

~+~  
Peter really doesn't want to think about it, but he can't get it out of his head. He turns around so he faces the wall. He can't actually see the wall, it's too dark in his bedroom for that, but he feels better facing it. He isn't sure Damon wasn't just toying with him in the coffee shop. He never can be sure, not even of his friends or his brother. Nathan demonstrated that with his little stunt of rounding them all up. He feels like he is constantly on edge. And now this, this thing with Damon and Sylar. He doesn't know what changed from yesterday to today, maybe just the simple thing of someone making him aware. He was looking at Sylar's chest this afternoon as Sylar was stripping while debating and defending his method of research. Research, he thinks, my ass. He was just out hunting for the kicks of it. He knows Sylar, he knows he is still a hunter, a collector, a killer – deep down. You can't repress all your urges and desires. It just doesn't work like that, life just doesn't work like that, people just don't work like that. He closes his eyes and tries not to think. That doesn't work like that either. He sighs and sits up. He can't sleep. He is a sleepless mess because of Damon and Sylar. Fuck. He is officially fucked.

  
~Eight~  
Maybe, he thinks it wasn't the best of his ideas to tell Damon about the vampire roaming the streets of the city. But they are friends.

“He is no friend of mine!” Sylar shouts.

“But he is one of mine.” That's the truth and if there is a vampire (and there fucking is one, or something or someone who is killing people by draining their blood) then he wants his friends to know about the danger.

“Are you fucking him?” Sylar asks, his voice calm and collected.

“Am I fucking you?” he gives back. Because fuck Sylar.

“No.”

“There, you have your answer. And now we should get back to the reports...also I took Ma's ability again,” he says. Sylar is staring at him. He looks away. Things are pretty messed up since the conversation with Damon two weeks ago. He just can't look at Sylar anymore. Not casual like he used to. Something inside himself is shifting and he is afraid of it. He doesn't want to face it. Not at all.

“He's moving up...” Sylar says, leaning against the wall and watching him.

“I know. A shopkeeper two nights ago. We need to stop him,” he answers, leaning against the back of the couch. He is tired of this. Why is there always someone they need to fight?

“Because there is always some douchebag that likes the power such things give him,” Sylar replies. His voice soft and far away. He isn't sure he asked it out loud, maybe he had, because Sylar isn't usually in his head anymore. Not uninvited.

“Never tempted me...” he says and Sylar gives him a sharp look. “Never when I only had my power...yours is different and even then I didn't want the power, just craved the knowledge.”

“You would be that unique snowflake,” Sylar answers. Peter smiles despite himself. Being with Sylar seems easier from day to day. “So, you will dream the future and we will catch the bad guy?” he asks.

“I'll try my best. But you know it doesn't always work like that,” Peter says. “The future is not set in stone.”

“I know,” Sylar replies.

~+~  
Okay, he is vicious and evil and all that stuff, but he is not stupid. He would never leave a trail of 15 bodies in one city. Someone is here as well and that someone is totally ruining his game. He needs to find that someone and soon and maybe take Sylar and Peter with him when he's going to kill that someone. He needs their trust. He knows Sylar is suspicious (suspecting him to be their man) and Peter has known Sylar longer than he has known Damon.  
So, he's going to hunt a vampire. It shouldn't be a big problem now that he knows he needs to find one. He knows how they think, knows what they like and knows that they can't go out by day. If it is a real vampire, if it is something like himself. There is always the slight chance it's something else. Something like Peter, but much more dangerous. Maybe something like Sylar.

~+~  
“What do you mean by we'll need his help?!” Sylar asks. He is mad as hell. He can't stand Damon and he can't stand him because he is too much like himself and he so clearly wants into Peter's pants. Sylar doesn't like him.

“He was in my dream,” Peter says firmly.  
Sylar wants to break something really badly. Best thing would be Damon's skull. He doesn't think he will have that pleasure.

“Helping us? Catch a vampire?”

“Yes.”

“How would he know anything about that?” Sylar asks, he thinks it's a fucking good question. Damon never mentioned that he hunts vampires for a living.

“I don't know! I didn't know how you would save Emma either, but I knew you would! And you did!” he answers, looking at Sylar. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. Fuck Peter and all his goodness and trust in people.

“You could've been wrong and I would've killed you.”

“I wasn't and you didn't,” he answers. He sounds tired. And Sylar feels it. Body after body is showing up and Bennet is getting on his nerves. He suspects Bennet is even getting on Peter's nerves. After all Peter hung up on him just yesterday.

“Just call him and let's get this over with. I’ve had enough of seeing autopsy pictures before breakfast,” he says. Peter nods, getting his cell and calling Damon.

  
~Nine~  
There are things he doesn't tell Sylar. Dreams of a possible future. All these things he is thinking about. But he suspects that Sylar knows, or at least has a faint clue that something is up. That there is something more to the dreams than just Damon helping them hunt a vampire.

~+~  
He knows that Damon is clever. He knows that the looks are what get him everywhere he wants to be – right now he is sure Damon wants into Peter's bed. Also, he shouldn't be thinking about it at this moment.

“Come in,” Peter says and Sylar makes coffee in the kitchen.

“You guys living together, hmmm?”

“Didn't you with your brother?” Sylar asks as he's entering the living room with the mugs in tow.

“He is my brother,” Damon answers, snagging one out of the row.

“Right...”

“So, why am I here? You were really secretive on the phone?” he asks, sitting down. Too close to Peter, if you ask Sylar. But no one is asking. He puts sugar and milk into Peter's cup and places it on the table. Peter nods his thanks.

“I had a dream...” he starts and Damon laughs.

“About me?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” Damon asks with a grin. Sylar really can't stand this guy. At all.

“Let him finish!” he says sharply and Damon backs off. Leans against the back of the couch and makes a serious face. He isn't fooling Sylar.

“A prophetic dream. I saw you help us to find and kill that guy... that vampire.”

“Oh... okay,” Damon says.

“You can find a vampire?”

“Mystic Falls is full of them. Stabbed one right in the heart,” he answers, shrugging. Sylar takes a sip of his coffee.

“And you didn't think this could've been important?”

“Who the hell believes in vampires?” Damon gives back. This might be a valid point but Sylar can totally ignore it if he chooses to. He chooses to.

“I'm a shapeshifter,” he says instead of something else, something sharper like: Get the hell out of this apartment and maybe city. Damon raises an eyebrow in interest.

“Really?”

“Really,” Peter answers.

~+~  
“So, I'm your chosen one then, hmm?” Damon says, taking a sip of coffee. He is very aware that Sylar is watching him. He can't make any mistakes now. He still hasn’t found the other vampire, even if he's found his hiding place. It was abandoned, but recently so.

“Aren't we lucky?” Sylar answers and Damon laughs, he can't help himself. He kind of likes Sylar. He doesn't want to, but he really does like this guy. And he can still taste his blood, can smell it. His stomach clenches and he takes another sip of coffee to distract himself.

“You are. Let's hunt us some monsters,” he says and is very aware of the irony in this. He and Sylar both, if the sardonic smile that curves his lips is any indication.

  
~Ten~  
They start with all the abandoned buildings near the city and then in the city itself. They find two fresh bodies and Damon curses. He wouldn't ever be this sloppy. He doesn't know any vampire that would if that vampire wanted to stay hidden and safe for god's sake.  
They split up to cover more ground and Damon is sure that Peter and Sylar are trying to smell him. His scent is all over the fresh bodies. He himself can smell the bastard that is trying to rain on his parade. But it's raining and he doesn't know how well that will turn out. He's wet when he turns a corner and runs into Sylar.

“Though you went north,” he says. He hates rain. Everything is so fucking wet then and cold and he didn't eat this morning or yesterday or the day before, because this stupid vampire is leaving bodies all over the fucking city.

“He changed directions...” Sylar answers. Damon is staring at his neck, the vein under the pale skin, how the rain makes it even more appetizing. He licks his lips. Fuck, he needs to get a grip here or he's going to try and drain Sylar again.

“Seems so,” he says, his voice heavy.

Sylar looks at him sharply. “You have got to be kidding!”  
Damon shakes his head. It's Sylar's scent, it's fucking distracting so close up and all the adrenaline that is pumping through this human's veins. He grabs Sylar's neck and licks just once before he is shoved away.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“The hell?” Sylar wants to know.

“You looked good for a moment there,” he answers with a grin. Sylar looks murderous. Damon loves that look.  
Sylar wants to say something or smack Damon's head against the nearest wall, Damon can't be sure, but his cell rings and he takes the call instead.

“Peter's found him!” he says, snapping the phone shut, grabbing him and just fucking flying away. What is there, Damon thinks, that this guy can't do?

~+~  
They land in the bad part of town, Peter cowering behind a dumpster. He looks pale and he's shivering, there is blood on the ground.

“What do you need?” he asks stretching his hand out. Peter grabs it, shifting trough the abilities and settling on Claire's power, not the best thing in a fight, but it will keep him alive. And this thing is something they never were up against before. Sylar approves. He nods shortly and signals Damon to follow him inside the run down building the vampire is hiding in.  
He leaves Peter outside to heal.  
The vampire isn't sleeping, even if it's day. It hits Sylar that they really know next to nothing about vampires. Real ones, or this thing.  
The man cocks his head in their direction, but focuses on Sylar, not Damon. And then it leaps, Sylar pins it down to the floor and keeps it there.

“Neat trick.”

“Telekinesis,” Sylar answers looking at the man on the hard floor. He isn't sure what they should do now. The man struggles, but he doesn't think he's strong enough to break free. Sylar has experience.

“Looks like you've done it before...” Damon says, “Looks, like you're enjoying it.”  
Sylar turns away from the man and gives Damon a look that would make lesser man run for their life. The vampire breaks free and Damon leaps to stop him, Sylar is a few seconds behind and then the man is pinned down again. Sylar is bleeding, but the wounds are already healing. Damon is breathing hard, so is the unknown man on the floor.

“What should we do with you, hmmm?” Sylar asks and his voice is too low, he knows what he would love to do to this thing. But he doesn't think he needs another addiction on top of all the other stuff he is dealing with.

“I called Bennet,” Peter says from behind them. Sylar doesn't look away from the man on the floor.

“You think it's a good idea to keep him alive?” he asks.

“You want to kill him?” Peter challenges. The answer is yes, but Peter doesn't need to know that.

“What will Bennet do with him?” he asks instead.

“Lock him up.” He shrugs. There is still blood on his shirt, there is blood on his own shirt as well.

“I need fresh air,” Damon says, Peter nods, but doesn't move.

“See you outside,” Sylar answers with a grin. Damon gives him a look. Sylar knows a killer when he sees one and Damon is one.

“Like they tried with me?” he says to Peter.

“You are a special case,” Peter answers, coming closer. “He looks so normal.”

“So do I, so do you, so did Sullivan... scratch that last one,” he says, grinning. “When will Bennet be here?”

“In a few minutes, why?”

“Just want to go home. I really don't want to be here with him...I can hear his thoughts, it isn't pretty. Makes me want to shut him up forever,” he says. Peter nods, but stays silent.

~+~  
“They didn't put a stake into his rotten heart?” Damon asks. Peter shakes his head, Sylar is glaring.

“He isn't a real vampire. He is a special and he craves blood,” he answers.

“I don't think it's a good idea to keep him alive,” Damon says.

“I don't think that either and I hate that I'm with him on this one,” Sylar throws in. Peter gives him a look. They are like children fighting for their favourite toy... fuck, not thinking about this, so not thinking about this. Sylar shrugs.

“We can't walk around and kill people just because we don't like what they're doing,” he says.

“Isn't that the American way of life?” Damon asks and Sylar laughs out loud. Peter glares. It might be true for some, it isn't true for him or Claire or them for that matter. “Don't look at me like that. I'm just saying it's the truth.”

“I need tea and then a shower and then my bed,” Peter says, leaning against the back of the couch.

“I can help you with the tea,” Sylar answers.

“I can help you with the shower...” Damon grins.

Peter's eyes snap open. “The fuck?” Sylar says.

“You should leave before he throws you out of the window without even touching you,” Peter answers with a smile. Sylar glares at him in return. Peter knows it's because he's smiling not because he said all the things about the window.

“See you tomorrow then,” Damon says as he grabs his jacket and it's not a question.

“Yeah.”

  
~Eleven~  
Maybe, he thinks, he'll stay a while and not kill anyone – important that is. He still doesn't see the merit of Stefan's diet. He thinks he'll never see it. Peter is talking like Sylar isn't glaring at Damon for being alive. He supposes that Peter has had some time to hone his ignoring techniques.

“Years,” Peter says and Damon looks at him sharply. Peter looks a bit perplexed.

“You were in my head.” It's not a question. Sylar laughs.

“I wasn't.... a stray thought?” he asks, he's looking at Sylar.

“Yeah, I heard it too,” he answers. “Maybe you're letting your guard down.”

Damon doesn't think so. “Maybe you're a stronger telepath than we thought?” he gives back.

Peter shakes his head. “I don't have the power the whole time. I can't master it as well as someone  
whose power it really is...or like Sylar.”

“Oh, you're warming up to us, isn't that sweet?” Sylar says.  
Peter smiles.  
Damn, Damon thinks, Sylar might be fucking right.

~+~  
“You are warming up to him as well, aren't you?” Peter asks. He's leaning against the kitchen counter, watching Sylar slice vegetables. Sylar slices everything with a deadly precision that used to give Peter chills.

“I'm not,” he answers and Peter laughs.

“You so are.”

“When you're hooking up with him, I will tolerate his presence,” he says. Peter cocks his head, his fingers tightening on the edge of the counter. He was thinking about Damon. He has been thinking about Damon like that, sometimes. The thing is that he is thinking about Sylar like that as well.

“Do you think he is lying to us?” he asks.

“I can't say for sure.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Peter wants to know. Sylar always can tell if someone is lying.

“I can't tell, okay? I just... I don't get any vibes from him. It's like he isn't even a real person or something.”

“Right,” Peter says doubtfully. It's not that he doesn’t believe Sylar, he does believe Sylar, there is no reason for him to lie, it's just unusual.

“Believe what you want,” he answers sharply.

“It's not that and you know it!” Peter says, annoyed.

“No, I don't because I'm not in your head anymore nor you in mine. We are...” he waves the knife; red juice flying everywhere.

“Two separate beings,” Peter finishes.

“Yeah,” Sylar says.  
Sometimes it really doesn't feel like that, Peter thinks.

~+~  
“Somehow I don't believe we ran into each other by chance,” he says and Damon smiles, this innocent boyish smile of his. That doesn't fool Sylar for one moment.

“Maybe I was stalking you,” he answers, playing with his coffee-cup.

“I'm warning you and I'm warning you just this once,” Sylar says.

“Oh please, I'm not going to kill him.” Damon waves his hand, his voice quiet. Sylar raises an eyebrow. “I'm going to fuck him.”

“I'm not gonna make this easy for you,” Sylar answers.

“I hoped you wouldn't.”

Sylar can't help himself he laughs out loud. “You are like me, aren't you?” he asks.

Damon seems to think about it and then he nods. “In a way, I guess.”

Sylar leans back in the chair and looks at Damon. There are things he knows about Damon: he is a killer (Sylar knows that with the same certainty he knows he killed his own mother), he is not like other humans (he likes that, it makes life exciting) and he's going to stay (which strangely enough Sylar doesn't mind). He waves the waiter over and orders two more coffees, Damon smiles.

~end~


End file.
